They quietly live among us. Blissfully going through life. Unaware of the chaos surrounding them. Inundated with a stack of political flyers taller than a four-year-old that goes straight from porch to trash bin.
You may even know one.
Behold, the politically tuned-out crowd of San Francisco. You’d think it’s rare in a city known for an engaged citizenry.
But there are more of them than you think.
According to Secretary of State data, about a fourth of the 663,000 eligible voters aren’t registered, and that doesn’t count those who are but don’t participate in the election. For us political junkies, it’s like someone asking about the weather while an asteroid approaches Earth.
Meet Adam, who only shared his first name, standing with sweat dripping down his face after coming out of a gym on Chestnut Street. He was iffy on the presidential race and definitely hasn’t put much thought toward the local contests.
It’s really all a low priority for him.
“I don’t really give a shit about that one either, to be honest,” he said about the national election. “I don’t really think there’s that much of a difference between the two candidates. Their policies are pretty aligned. Besides abortion, but that’s pretty much the only thing differentiating them. I do think that’s a big issue, but everything else is pretty much aligned.”
He added, “It’s, like, exhausting. It’s super demoralizing, kind of depressing to think about.” A woman eating lunch outside Peet’s Coffee reacted similarly when asked for an interview: “Sorry, I’m so tired of it,” she grimaced.
Just down the block was Jessica, who also declined to share her last name. She sat with her coffee, a headphone in one ear, a Celsius energy drink, and an oversized Stanley water bottle on the table in front of her. Jessica had a good excuse: She recently moved to the city from Napa and is too busy to think about politics. She had seen pictures of the mayoral candidates — Mayor London Breed, Mark Farrell, Daniel Lurie, and Aaron Peskin — but couldn’t recall their names.
And don’t get her started on those pesky volunteers.
“I do find it a little bit pushy, because they leave flyers in your house,” she said. “Every day is what I’ve noticed. I’ve also seen moms and kids stand on the corners with signs, and I wonder what makes them do that?”
The flyers! It kept coming up.
“One flyer was like, ‘Blah, blah blah his résumé, and it shows all the experience he has,” said Crunch Fitness employee Darius Sadaat. “I just think a lot of San Francisco is kind of tuned out of it. It’s the first time I’ve had a conversation about it with anyone who lives in SF.”
Lots of folks couldn’t handle the understandable stress of what has largely become a political circus spectacle. Some felt their vote didn’t matter, that nothing would change, and were disillusioned with the state of the city, the state, or the country. Others said they were barred from voting.
At a nearby salon, Jay Zavala stood outside with his dog, Harley. He said he is unable to vote as a felon but indicated he wouldn’t even if he had the chance.
“It feels like nothing that we really vote for actually happens,” he said. Zavala felt frustrated with issues like homelessness and safety, even in the relatively quiet Marina District neighborhood. One local candidate — Zavala didn’t mention who — tried to put a poster up on his barbershop.
He said no.
He said he is wary of the sheer amount of money in the race. The mayor’s contest alone has attracted tens of millions — the most expensive in city history, according to a Chronicle tally. Lurie, an heir to the Levi Strauss fortune, has given more than $8 million to his own campaign.
“It’s whoever’s got the most money for their campaigns to be more well known,” Zavala said.
Many weren’t afraid to expose their knowledge gap. But Kat R. felt a bit guilty about the whole thing.
“Shame on me,” she said with a grin. “I’m going to pay more attention.”